Archive for August, 2007

Man I’m so fucking frustrated (I do mean… disappointed) with you people. Do you know that our national day is just round the corner? Kanineh you. And then?? And then?? Where’s your flag?? I can’t see it on your car pun?? Mapuki cheebye betuih… ANd you have the audacity to call yourselves Malaysians?? Phorrdahhhhh!

Nobody cares if you have talent and can rap or sing like an R&B star…
Nobody cares if you’re intelligent or whatever…
Nobody cares if you can swim across to Indonesia with only your left testical…

Kitaorang tak bagi pungkok tikus sebiji!!

If you don’t have a fucking flag on your car, you’re still not patriotic! And you are definitely not fit to call yourselves Malaysians!

Just look at those Mat Rempits. See their flags? Despite the retardation and hopelessness, they’re PATRIOTIC! They have flags on their bikes, helmets and even as capes (which looks really cool when they whack their bikes at neck breaking speed)! That’s why we send them to North Pole to sky dive, and NOT YOU! That’s because you don’t have a flag on your car. Shame on you.

If you don’t like it, you can always choose to keluar dari Malaysia! Go to Europe, anywhere, kita tak peduli. We’d only lament about that later when we’re REALLY running short on skilled workers… (Riddle: Singapore loses its accountants to China and the rest of the world. Our accountants on the other hand, going to Singapore to fill the gap there. So who’s gonna fill in our gap here then? Hint: Starts with a ‘B’ and ends with the pronunciation ‘gla’)

To those of you who would like to repent, well, it’s not too late yet. You still have enough time to change everything. You just need to buy a flag, and stick it on your car. Or you can drape a big one across your hood, windscreen, etc, doesn’t matter. Just display it proudly on your car. Let those Mat Salleh out there see – that bahawasanya kita patriotik. Kita mesti maju. Kita mesti beli banyak-banyak bendera. I don’t see why you fuckers can’t spend 3 fucking ringgit for a cheap plastic flag. It matters not if those plastics are harmful for the environment (that’s because the turtles are dying anyway…) or the fact that it might flew off your car hitting some innocent motorcyclists when you’re speeding on the federal highway… Patriotism is the pwn!!! It is above the law and it overwrites every-fucking-thing on the Bolehland!

So, fly them proud and high, people. Not kites, but flags. And have a happy valentines day.

I’m sure you guys have your fair share of celebrities to hate. Famous people whom you think deserves anything except being famous and rich. I have mine too.

Il Divo
I don’t know if it’s just me but, I think these 4 beefcakes are just atrocious. They bring about so much gay-ness in them, that it makes me think that this isn’t all about singing. In my arrogant opinion, I think it’s about being homos and being able to openly show off how energetic they are (a de facto testament to their ass humping prowess) when they belt out their gay version of recycled ballads. I never fail to cringe in horror whenever I hear these fags butchering songs after songs on the radio.

Gwen Stefani
I don’t have so much of a problem with her music, though it is still quite awful to my taste. The problem’s with her grotesque sense of fashion. Touted as the “harajuku” ambassador of the West… I often find her image puke inducing. Striped underwear over the head… polka dotted stocking stuffed inside her ass… perforated piece of cooter from excessive silverware piercing… you know, that kind of shit. Like, how could anyone sanction that kind of garb out in public? You people disgusts me.

Prince
If it wasn’t for Michael Jackson, I would have named this freak as the creepiest androgynous weirdo of all time. He’s now the runner up. I mean, look at him. He can’t sing. He can’t dance. And worst of all, he looks like some drag queen on crack selling backside in a dark seedy alley somewhere. How can a drag queen poser be that successful, smoking weed and porking models, while talented people like you and me sit around toiling behind some fat ass yelling at you to get your job done (and stop blogging)? This ain’t making any sense at all man. This guy, he deserves no fame just for looking like that. He deserves to have a steel fire stoker shove up his ass, with the protruding end hooked to a rotational coconut grinder shaft.

Akon
The guy whose songs are currently being played inside every fucking yuppy’s mp3 player, posh pubs and gaudy ah lian fengtau disco outlets. The only 2 talents that I see in this guy, are
1) he has the look to be able to star in our local “Orang Minyak” film, as “Orang Minyak”, without any need of special effects or make-up.
2) he has the required yelling and high pitched flair to peddle mobile ‘Yong Tou Foo’ around in low cost apartments. People will notice his presence with little effort with that kind of voice. “YO, there comes Akon. STUFFED CHILLI WITH PLENTY OF GARLIC NO PARSLEY!”
He’s famous probably because Gwen Stefani gave him a polka dotted fellatio. Otherwise, he’d surely make a good Yong Tou Foo peddler.

Jay Chou
What more can be said of this creature? Nevermind about his I-think-I’m-cool-yeah attitude. Nevermind about his scrawny physique. Nevermind about his disheveled hairstyle (which seems to be ubiquitous amongst shylocks, DVD sellers, hairstylists, junkies, thugs and illiterates). He’s the epitome of all ugly people turned successful. He’s the living proof that one can still have shitloads of luck to achieve your seemingly impossible goals despite being born with a chicken ass voice and naturally looking like a complete dork. He’s “the one” that made it. He gives hopeless people hope. What more can I say… the dark prince of all schmucks and the idol of all out-of-control teenagers…

—–

That was therapeutic. It has been some time since I did this. I was thinking – while being very busy at work last week – if my seemingly trivial daily work routine has consumed my soul… that I do not even have the time to have feelings anymore? (since Rob’s departure). That’s when I pledged to do this… you know, hopefully, it’ll wake me up from this nightmare and realize that there are more important stuff for me to give a shit about other than that trivial paycheck (though at hard times like this, it doesn’t feel that trivial to me, yet).

I requested for a heatsink for one of my lab computers last week. As usual, I was made to go through shitloads of paperwork to get that paltry 5 dollar part. Come today, one week post my official request – the heatsink was still nowhere to be found (normally, it would take only a couple of days). That was when I send an email to check with our Inventory Control (IC) department (the same department that The Gimp works in – if you can remember him), on what the hell’s going on here…

May I ask what happened to this part I requested?
From the form, it seems that the part has been physically pulled – but I have yet to receive the part…

Kindly advise.

I may sound like a very innocent guy in that mail… but that was just me trying to be courteous and shit. In actual fact, I was somehow pissed, because all it takes for those bums to approve my fucking heatsink was just a couple clicks of buttons in the electronic form – I could have gotten the heatsink on the very same day had they been a wee tad more efficient.

I was called up you few times on yesterday afternoon but nobody pick up the call.
Kindly please print out the [electronic form]and issue the part from the [some location that I have no idea], beside that contact IC guy #1 (ext# XXXX) or IC guy #3 (ext# XXXX) to verify the physical part and paste on the IC sticker.
Thanks.

I had to fucking read a few times to understand that gibberish on his email (check his signature quote out… pfftt. I bet he filched that off some graffiti he found at a Chinese elementary school toilet somewhere…).

It seems that IC guy was trying to put the blame on me for the delay… you know, simply because he wasn’t smart enough to relay a message to me? Yeah.

This is a very, very dark movie… and I fucking loved it. If there was to be a denominator 10 score, I would have given it a mind blowing perfect 10. It has got to be one of the best serial killer movie I’ve ever seen, even better than that “Silence of the Lambs”.

The magic of this movie, I must say, lies in the character development. Unlike many serial killer movies, the plot was told from the killer’s perspective (similar to that movie “Perfume – The Story of a Murderer” – which I equally enjoy). It makes you empathize with the killer and experience the feel of how he struggled with his overwhelming inner evil – in the form of an imaginary character named Marshall, who would appear throughout the movie as his alter ego crime partner – to not kill anymore innocent people. So, he’s like trying to change his ways, but his Marshall would to prevent him from doing that.

And Kevin Costner carried this role remarkably well. He’s sick, twisted and at the same time, calm and composed, but also lets you see the ‘behind the scenes’ of serial killer’s mind. You can put it this way, he’s like the Chili Palmer of all serial killers, life similar to Spiderman’s and with a bonus of having an intelligent sidekick named Marshall to unfuck everything for him.

The plot’s damn good, enough gore scenes, a couple of uber cool gunfight scenes, some car chases, elements of dry comedy and also a bonus tits scene (nice natural tits) – all these vital ingredients blend very nicely into a classic serial killer flick which I think, I will remember for a fucking long time.

Remember the movie “Saw”? Well, this is the sequel. The return of the sociopath Jigsaw Killer. Not a new title but, I only got the chance to watch it yesterday.

The story starts with a scene of a semi naked dude waking up to find himself hooked to an iron maiden like mask on his neck. He has a busted eyeball and everything else is blur. And before he can even get his shit together to realize what is going on, a TV conveniently placed in front of him fires up and on comes the video of Jigsaw Killer in his infamous puppet form, telling him that the iron maiden mask is a time triggered device, and it’s gonna fucking snap into his face if he doesn’t unlock it with a key. Killer then gives him a hint, an x-ray picture of his skull with the key surgically buried behind his busted eyeball. Poor guy freaks out and fumbles, and finds a scalpel. He’d have to use the scalpel to gouge out his eyeball and use the key to save his own life… but failed in the end. The device snaps and we get to see blood gushing out of the mask when he lies dead on the floor…

Quite an introduction eh? Yeah, if you can remember the killer’s style, this has always been his kind of shit. Playing games of death with his devious plots and traps. But this sequel, is a far departure from the first title. This is a much better movie with better budget. You don’t get a lot of ‘much better’ sequels nowadays. Some of the notable improvements and strong points compared to the first movie:

– The location is no longer confined to only a small room and a couple of blokes with plenty of drama (which I have to admit, can be quite dull after about 20 minutes). This time, it’s inside an abandoned house ala Resident Evil (the game) style. More twisted traps and naturally, also more gore.

– They brought in some famous people to act in this movie – Mark Wahlberg. Wait a minute. That guy isn’t Mark. That guy’s somebody else that looks like Mark. Who the fuck is this guy? A little bit of googling around revealed that he’s Mark’s brother – Donnie Wahlberg. You know, the guy who used to be in the famous New Kids On the Block ~~~stepp by stepp, oooh bebehhhh~~~. Yeah it’s him. Gosh he looks like an old fart now. His acting is no less fabulous than Mark. They looked almost the same and sounded the same. Just cheaper.

– They’d added in a little bit of teaser titties in this movie, which is a good thing. Though they could use some maniac ripping off their clothes or something, but there’s no room for maniacs in this movie so… I guess it is already a boon to have them around, to dampen up a little of the bore factor in the middle of the movie. You know, sometimes you need a little distraction to keep the positive vibe going. So, there’s this small tittied braless crack whore looking chick, and another 2 with bigger ones. It was alright.

– The plot is more complex and intelligent. It revolves around the Jigsaw killer himself getting caught after the iron maiden killing in the introduction, and being confronted by Donnie Wahlberg, who plays a toughnut corrupted cop called Matthews. The killer however, managed to turn the table around and got Matthews back in the ass, by revealing to him that his son has been captured in a building somewhere laced with sarin gas. From there, the movie breaks into 2 subplots – the game of death being played by Matthews with the killer to save his son, and another one being played by Matthew’s son himself to stay alive in the spooky shit trap laden hellhole. Both plots would then merge into the grand finale, where the viewer gets to learn how each and every plan and trap that Jigsaw killer deceitfully laid beforehand, falls perfectly into place to get Matthews into the very room where the first movie took place.

Overall quite impressive, I must say. I liked every minute of it. It was as if the director took heed of my advice in my previous “Saw” review, and dump them into this sequel. Nice.